Currently lacking a title pt 1
by starbuxx
Summary: Roy is both a loved and hated man. But when some angst-filled attempt to posion him goes wrong, why isn't he the one who suffers? Royai RoyxRiza no spoilers! Will add part 2 as a chapter l8ter! ;3


-1If you are reading this, you are currently reading a fanfic. A fanfic, meaning that I do not own the characters. So… yup!

Enjoi!! ;P

Oh, PS, there WILL be a part 2!! JUST BE PAITENT

Every day at Central HQ was just another day of slacking. Subordinates ran amuck while dodging bullets, and a certain colonel sat at his desk, unamused. First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye was the only soldier in there with work in mind, and she was really the only one who could hold the office together.

--

Today was no different from any other day. Riza Hawkeye stood outside the colonel's office, ready to make everyone work for once. The whole previous week was filled with unproductiveness. Mustang simply sat at his desk, toying with a ballpoint pen, when he could have been using it to sign the mountains of important documents stacked around his desk. Subordinates nonchalantly waltzed in and out of the office, obviously unproductive. She sighed, realizing she could only gain control by force. She pulled out a ivory-clad dueling pistol, special for the occasion, held it up in the air, and opened the door.

Bang.

Right as she stepped into the office, she shot a bullet straight into the air, striking through the plaster of the ceiling. Everyone froze in there tracks, each man in the office reduced to looking like a deer in the headlights. The menacing woman took a few steps in. "Gentlemen, please take a seat. I am afraid I will have to monitor today's progress by force." Bits of plaster fell next to her where the bullet was shot.

Every man in the office scrambled into their seats.. Without a sound, whimper, or complaint, they began scanning over papers and signing furiously. Each soldier in the vicinity of the office had a terrified look on their face, and Riza used all of her strength to keep from laughing out loud.

"Well, I trust you men can get something done today. Now, has anyone seen the colonel? He has much to catch up on." She scanned around the office, noticing everyone flinched when she asked for Mustang. She walked a few steps, until hearing a whimper from behind the mountains of paper stacked on Roy's desk. She closed her eyes and gave an aggravated growl. Riza raised hr pistol until the sights matched up right into a small gap between the papers.

Bang.

She fired, pistol smoking. Hawkeye herd a small yelp, and walked toward the cluttered desk. Not to her surprise, she found a certain Flame Alchemist sitting in his chair, pressed against the surface if his desk. His hands covered the back of his head, and he was shaking uncontrollably in fear.

He glanced up to the side really quick, only to see a rather pissed off blonde lieutenant glaring down at him, arms crossed, a pistol dangling menacingly in on hand. He immediately started to sweat drop, and let out a forced, nervous chuckle.

"Oh, umm, hello lieutenant… I, uh, was just--"

"Colonel, please save the explanation. Just get to work. We have had enough slacking already, now, haven't we?" She looked don at him, features stone cold and solid. He immediately grabbed a stack of papers and hunched over them, signing furiously.

"Now that's more like it." she said to herself. Pleased with the outcome of her threats, she turned to walk to her desk to finish up some of her own work, smiling out of sight as her back was turned.

--

About two hours of non-stop, threat-induced work, she decided to loosen up. In those two hours, they finished more work than they had in the previous week. A assistant walked into the room with a beverage trolley. A single mug of tea rested on the cart. The assistant walked to Mustang's now visible desk and placed the mug down, and promptly rolled the trolley out.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, finally noticing the steaming drink on the corner of his desk. "Damn. They gave me tea instead of coffee. Lieutenant, here, would you like this? I am not much for tea." he asked her, gesturing to the warm cup beside him.

"Thank you, sir." Riza replied as she walked to his desk. She picked up the mug, grasping it with both hands to feel the warmth emanating from it. She sat back down at her desk, taking a few sips of tea, and returned to work.

--

While everyone left the office for a lunch break, Lieutenant Hawkeye stayed behind. She wasn't feeling in her best condition. 'Something in that tea didn't sit right with me…' she thought to herself. Riza had no appetite, so she stayed behind to take a few stacks of paper off the colonel's desk and help him finish his work early for a change, to avoid another all-nighter at the office.

--

Minutes seemed to take longer and longer as her stomach turned and flipped inside of her. But she continued to ignore it, and hid any trace of pain or discomfort from her usually placid features.

Everyone returned from their lunch break, barging into the office, laughing and yelling rudely in ignorance. Before taking another step in, Havoc looked to the lieutenant's desk. He froze, cigarette falling from his mouth. Everyone froze as well, finally noticing what stunned Havoc.

First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye was asleep at her desk.

She was sleeping quietly at her desk; head resting on one arm, while one wrapped itself around her stomach. Her eyes were peacefully closed, catching up on some well-needed, and earned, rest. Her pink lips were parted slightly, and her breaths were deep and quiet.

Roy walked in shortly after, looking quite puzzled at the others. She followed their still gaze to the snoozing lieutenant, and his mouth went agape as well.

Riza Hawkeye was not one to slack. She was not one to shirk. And she was definitely not one to sleep. Well, at work, anyway. Such a sight could signal an apocalypse, or so it would seem. It was a truly rare occasion, and Mustang planned to take advantage of it.

He started by stepping slowly to her desk; heavy military boots clacking lightly against the tile in an almost soothing rhythm. He stopped, standing next to her, smirking back at his men. They seemed amused, bewildered, amazed, and fearful at the same time.

Roy cleared his throat. "Sleeping at work, Hawkeye? Well, there is a first time for everything." He said in a loud tone. He almost sounded obnoxious, as if to take advantage of her unusual situation. She opened her eyes slightly. Once realizing what was going on, her eyes shot awake as her mind fell out of its slumber. Her arm snapped into a salute. "Colonel, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I--" He cut her off with his own words, as well as a hand on her shoulder, "Now, that's alright Hawkeye. At ease." He motioned to her to lower her salute. Roy then looked down at her. Every light gold hair was still in place. But he noticed more than that.

Her skin seemed paler than the norm, and her cheeks were rather flushed, and he was damn sure it wasn't from embarrassment, since she was not one to show that emotion. Ever. Her eyes, usually lively, yet cold, now appeared to be tired and glazed.

"Lieutenant, are you feeling alright?" he asked, rather worried about his babysitter's condition. Riza mulled over what to say for a moment. Yes. She felt like crap. Her stomach was doing flip-flops inside of her, and she couldn't think of a single reason why. But she knew if she admitted that, it would give Roy a viable reason to send her home and to let all hell break loose at the HQ.

She paused another moment. "I am fine, thank you." She said, and she immediately looked down to resume her work, and to hide the lie she created.

He shrugged, and walked to his desk, lazily resuming to a pile of folders and documents.

--

Since Hawkeye kept such a tight command that day, everyone in Mustang's office was able to leave relatively on time. Roy had gotten into the habit of driving his lieutenant home, since her apartment was on the way to his.

After bidding their goodbyes to some of the military personnel, Roy and Riza walked down the steps stone steps of the headquarters. Riza was feeling miserable; internally, at least. Her stomach had advanced from flip-flops to constricting knots, and she was using all her strength to hide it. 'Just until I get home,' she thought to herself, 'then I can lie down…'

On that thought, her insides churned, causing a wave of pain to flow through her body like a flash of lightning. She clasped her arms around her waist upon instinct. She immediately crashed down to her knees, grasping her arms around her stomach, desperate to stop the pain.

"Riza!!"

She heard her superior's voice say her name. she didn't look up to him, for her eyes were shut tight. She felt all the energy, all the strength drain from her body. She didn't realize that he was now resting in Roy's arm; him crouching to the floor on one knee, with her in the safety of his lap.

She realized the rather awkwardly-seeming position they were in, and she started to resist. After all, her in her superior arms is technically illegal. She pushed against his chest, but her arms felt limp and failed in resistance.

"Hawkeye! Are you alright?" he questioned her, now using her last name. He pressed a gloved hand to her head. She flinched slightly at the unusual contact, but Roy still felt the simmering temperature of her face, even through the cloth of the glove.

She slowly wove out of conciseness, and he picked her up in his arms. He rushed over to his car, and laid her gently down across the back seat. She slipped himself into the driver's seat, and drove to his apartment.

--

Roy carried the ill Riza into his home. He opened the door to his bedroom with his foot and then walked to his bed. Roy carefully placed her down on his bed, being sure to not disturb her slumber.

He then ran downstairs to the nearest phone, calling a doctor to his residence.

--

Roy led the doctor up to his bedroom, where the sleeping Riza lay. Before the doctor arrived, he had removed her military jacket, exposing the black shirt underneath. He also had removed her hairclip, to make her more comfortable. But that was a half-baked reason. He really only wanted to see what her hair looked like when it wasn't pinned up, and he felt it was exquisite.

The doctor was a short, elderly man, with silver hair and a mustache and goatee of similar hue. His hands were long and boney, exposing his age. He had tanned skin, contrary to his age, and held a black, leather bag of medical supplies, which he placed on a chair beside the bed.

The doctor checked Hawkeye's vitals and such, as he bombarded Roy with questions; simple questions about allergies and medical history, which he answered to the best of his knowledge.

"Mr. Mustang," the doctor started, "did Miss Hawkeye display any signs of illness earlier today?"

Before answering with a 'no,' he stopped himself and reminisced. He recalled her state of discomfort and unusual characteristics when she fell asleep at work. "Now that you mention it…" he started off. "She did fall asleep at work, which was rather peculiar for her. She also appeared ill, but said nothing of it when I asked her."

The doctor stroked his hand down his goatee, and replied, "Mr. Mustang, did she have anything to eat today?"

His inquiry made Roy think back quite a ways. "Well, she didn't eat any lunch today; she stayed in the office to catch up on some paperwork. So I--" he stopped himself, remembering one incident. "I did offer her a cup of tea, though. She drank about half of it." He replied, remembering that he noticed the half-drunken mug of tea when he went to wake her up.

A thought finally donned on him. "Then again… It was odd that I was brought tea instead of my usual coffee," he expressed his thoughts aloud. "The cafeteria has a list of my preferences, and I also didn't order anything. Only someone outside of the Headquarters' who didn't have connections with me could have screwed that up. Maybe…"

The doctor then cut off his 'outer' monologue, "Mr. Mustang, as colonel in the military and an alchemist as well, rebels and war victims would not feel fondly toward you. Would someone try to poison you, perhaps?"

His eyes widened at the thought. Not at someone poisoning him, but him ignorantly passing on the tainted liquid to Hawkeye. His gaze wandered down to the sleeping comrade lying in his bed. He shuddered with both anger and guilty remorse.

"Doctor, can you please stay here for a moment? I will be back in a few minutes." The old man nodded his consent, as Roy darted down the stairs, snatched up his keys, and headed out the door.

--

Roy ran up the steps of the Military HQ, entering the large mahogany doors. He ran passed the secretary. "Evening, Colonel Mustang. Did you forget something?" He stopped and mumbled a response to her, "Something like that." Before darting up the stairs to his office, he inquired, "Did the custodial staff clean my office out yet?" The secretary looked to him, curiosity overran her face, due to the rather random question. "Not yet, sir." He bid a hasty farewell and a thank you as he darted up the stairs.

He made it to the large doors of his office, fumbling clumsily with his keys. Finally finding one of the right shape, he turned the knob and entered the office. He darted straight to the Lieutenant's desk. He let out a relieved sigh after noticing the mug still in its place. Cold, yes, but remaining where she left it. He took the mug in his hands, and started hastily on the way to his apartment.

--

"Well, well," the doctor mumbled, examining the mug presented in front of him by a rather flustered looking young colonel. The doctor peered across the rim of the mug as well as sniffed the now-cold drink. He dipped a piece of criminology paper into it, and by seeing the color change, he made his verdict. "It seems that it was a poison." His words made him cringe. "but not to worry, by the looks of this, she consumed a tolerable dose." Roy let out another relieved sigh. "But… I must inform you, Mr. Mustang," the doctor spoke directly to him, using a low, serious tone. "If she had drunken the whole lot of it, her life would be dangling in the balance."

Those words stung him more than anything could. He lost the strength in his legs as he fell into a nearby chair. The doctor fumbled around in his leather medical bag, pulling out a single shot. "This is enough to purify the toxins in her bloodstream." He said, flicking the needle with his finger. "but she will still be feeling the side-effects of the poison a while afterward." He added on.

--

Roy bid the doctor a million thanks, paid him, and showed him to the door. "Take good care of her, Mr. Mustang. She will not be feeling well for quite a while. Make sure she is not alone and doesn't go to work until she is back to full strength." Roy nodded to him, and returned to the bedroom, taking his place in the chair by Hawkeye's bedside.

Roy looked at her features. He noticed the subtle contours of her face, the pinkness of her lips, and her clear, smooth skin. She was now covered up to just under her shoulder in a blanket. She seemed calmer and more relaxed, but he remembered the doctors words on what her condition was. She sighed, grasping her smaller hand in his ungloved one. He stroked her's lightly with his other hand.

"I'm so sorry, Hawkeye." he said, then leaving her to rest as he walked downstairs to the den.

--

Riza awoke a couple hours later, sowing no signs of pain or delirium. She opened her eyes slightly, tossing her head to the side and pulling the bedclothes over her chin. But before rolling over and completely settling in, she realized that the color of the sheets was not the same as her own.

She shot up in realization, now sitting in a "stranger's" bed. She looked around noticing nothing was of her own possession. Well, accept for her jacket and hairclip placed on the dresser nearby. Her hand quickly shot to where her holster should be placed around her thigh.

Still there.

She sighed in pure relief, as she started to stand up, not taking into mind how the room felt like it was made of rubber. She removed the gun out of its holster; reloading it, since she used up all its current rounds earlier that day. Little did she know that the target she was currently going after was the same target she used those cartridges on earlier.

She opened the bedroom door carefully, pistol in hand. The coast was clear, so she continued her way down the stairs. Adrenalin ran through her veins at this point. She made it halfway down the stairs, noticing her "kidnapper" sitting on the couch reading.

Her superior officer. The colonel. Roy mustang.

He was sitting cross-legged on the couch in front of the stairway, taking a sip of coffee from a teal ceramic mug every once in a while. In his hand he held a rather thick novel he had been favoring lately. Roy had taken off his adorned military jacket, exposing the white dress shirt underneath. He didn't even notice the furious and confused lieutenant coming down the stairs.

"Roy Mustang!! Why the hell am I at your place??" she yelled, façade breaking, exposing true emotion. He placed his book down as his jaw dropped. The perfect model solider just yelled and commanded her superior, not to mention minute other offences. But what shocked him most was her use of his first name.

She immediately noticed her flaws, sighed, and attempted her question again, more formally, of course. "My apologies, Colonel. Can you please explain my current location?" She lowered her pistol and placed it back in its sheath.

"Can you explain why you are still standing?" He asked her, puzzled beyond belief. According to the doctor, she wasn't supposed to have enough energy, let alone strength to stand, let alone walk downstairs.

Her memory of the day's earlier events brought her to realization, even though they were a bit hazy. On his words, as if on cue, Riza lost all feeling in her legs and stumbled forward slightly. But Roy's reflexes were sharp, and he rushed from his place on the couch to right in front of her, catching her against his firm chest.

He held her steady, with one hand on her waist and the other on her shoulder. Riza blushed a bit, and tried to push herself out of his grasp, but he was so much stronger, and the poison had made her body weak; her struggling held to no avail. After all, she should not be in her superior officer's arms, under any circumstance.

He spoke softly to her, "You are in no condition to be moving around. You should probably sit down." His warm breath tickled her ear and she shivered slightly. She nodded with a "Yes, sir," and in one swift, single motion, he sat her on the couch. He still had his hands keeping her steady in the previous positions, but now he was kneeling on one knee on the floor.

She blushed a bit again. The Flame Colonel was kneeling in front of her on one knee; a pose usually hinting to, well, you know. "Thank you, Colonel," she whispered to him, for once not looking directly into his eyes.

"Well, you get some rest." he turned at stood up. "Would you like anything?" He asked the now lightheaded lieutenant. "Just tea, thank you." Upon that, he walked over to the kitchen while Riza laid herself upon the length of the couch. She started to ease up a bit, her body relaxing and her breaths becoming slow and deep.

Roy, in the kitchen, grumbled to himself on 'how she can drink such a vile concoction' and 'how I never have tea in the house.' But he did manage to find a handful of teabags, and started to boil a kettle upon the stove. He usually only bought food for himself, unless he had plans or events.

As the minutes passed, the tea had boiled and was now ready. He poured the piping hot liquid into a red mug. He seemed to have an affinity with red, or any other warm, fiery color, excluding the teal mug from earlier. He made his way to the living room, the hot cup leaving a transparent trail of steam behind him.

Roy arrived at Riza's side, mug in hand, only to see his First Lieutenant fast asleep.

--NOTE TO READER: THERE WILL BE A PART TWO!! LOOK BELOW FOR A LINK ( if it is completed XD ) --

--


End file.
